


Unexpected gift

by Haaska



Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Blanket Stealing, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Other, game prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haaska/pseuds/Haaska
Summary: Connor always liked having guests over, but this particular one was... challenging, to say the least.So he had to talk to him. Which was stressing him out more than he would have expected.





	Unexpected gift

Connor left the chapel and put his hands deep in the pockets of his standard technomancer coat. As he was making his way to the dormitory building, he's been trying to think about a certain problem that was bugging him for some time now. The problem had a name that started with an “I” and just happened to be his freshly acquired friend.  
  
  
It's been almost two weeks since Ian moved into his room. And not much more since Ian moved into Ophir.  
  
  
... and his room has been a giant mess since.  
  
  
Ian left a good first impression when they, the technomancers from Ophir, have met him for the first time. He was communicative, smiled often and had this aura of confidence and kindness that drew everyone like moths to a flame. So when Ian showed up at the training a few days later, looking like a shadow of a person, with ruffled hair and impressive eyebags and mentioned that he'd been trying to get assigned to another room because his current one was, as Ian put it, “absolutely uninhabitable” for reasons he didn't want to reveal just yet, and then the quartermaster instructed him to wait a few days for another room, Connor offered him his own bed, claiming that he can't accept seeing a new member of their group in such a miserable shape. Connor himself could sleep on a bunk, as he did many times already while having guests over. And Ian accepted his offer immediately, taking his belongings with him.  
  
  
From now on, as expected, his personal space was limited drastically. Abundance was known for allocating their space carefully, fitting as many people in the safe walls of Ophir as possible. So they shared one wardrobe, their coats hanging on the same hook, and all the small weapons they were permitted to carry outside of the training field were stocked one on another on the small table, barely leaving place for tablets and mugs. Half-emptied mugs, to be precise. They didn't really bother Connor, even though he was almost sure he had only one mug, not four. Blanket, or rather a ball-shaped mess thrown into the corner of the bed didn't bother him. Boots standing in the doorway... actually did, after he almost fell on his face after stumbling on one.  
  
  
But when he couldn't find a clean shirt to wear for today's morning training and therefore was forced to take one from the **floor** , he felt that his patience was dropping to a dangerously low level. He wasn't even sure if it was his shirt, but guessing from the scent that was probably Ian's, it was not. Oh, and it had a coffee stain on it. So, certainly Ian's shirt.  
  
  
That's when he decided that the time had come and he couldn't put up with that any longer - he had to talk with Ian. Because if “a few days” the quartermaster mentioned could stretch into two weeks, they could just as well become two months. And even if Ian's presence didn't bother him - far from it, actually - he wasn't sure if he would be able to wear dirty shirts for that long.  
  
  
Connor finally reached his room and entered, not even expecting the door to be locked - Ian never locked the door, not even once, even after Connor gave him his spare set of keys.  
  
  
He let out a heavy sigh, closed the door shut and leaned back against it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds, he opened them, and blinked a few times in surprise.  
  
  
The room was probably cleaner than it’d ever been, not even a single speck of dust floating in the air, every surface clean, every piece of clothing folded neatly. His black mug, along with Ian's white one, stood on a polished metal table. Connor’s technomancer implants and small training weaponry were clean and shiny.  
  
  
Except for a single mug, everything Ian brought with him was gone. The room was… empty. And sterile. Connor felt a weird sensation deep in his stomach he’d never felt before. It was… not really unpleasant, but a bit familiar to what he felt in stressful situations. Not exactly it, but close enough.  
  
  
The bed was missing a blanket, but other than that, it was in perfect condition. A single pillow was puffed and put next to something that at first reminded him of said blanket, but was much thicker, and the color was different, deeper and richer. His tablet was lying on top of it, left in sleep mode. Connor took a few steps closer and took it, then sat down on the bed and put a hand on the soft fabric. He clicked a small button on the side of the device; it woke up and displayed the last written message. It wasn’t saved as a standard text - it was written by hand, with a tablet pen. The handwriting wasn't too decorative, but it was neat and in cursive; like Ian wanted to show off, but didn't wanted it to look like he was trying too hard. Connor smiled and rolled his eyes.  
  
  


> __
> 
> "Sorry for leaving without a word. I got my room - it's 42-R. You are welcome to visit anytime.  
>    
>    
>    
>    
>  P.S.  
>    
>    
>  Your blanket ~~is~~ was terrible. So I brought you a new one. Forget about that old rug - I took ~~it~~ care of it.  
>    
>    
>  See you tomorrow.  
>    
>    
>  I."

The new blanket, folded neatly, carried no sign of dust or sand, meaning that Ian must've had cleaned it somewhere. One corner was ragged a bit and another part had been sewn carefully with even, precise stitches, but other than that it was in a good condition. It was made of thick, soft material, and its color resembled the red Martian sand that stood out from all the blues and blacks Abundance favored in their equipment. Golden decorative stripes embroidered with an expensive-looking thread meant that it must've costed a fortune.  
  
  
It had a familiar scent, the same as the shirt he was wearing right now, and rather pleasant, as he just realized. Meaning Ian had been using that blanket for some time. The weird sensation in his stomach returned. Connor sighed, again, and run a hand through his dark hair, feeling conflicted for a reason he couldn't understand.  
  
  
He wanted to talk with Ian about their living conditions, sure, but he didn’t want him to move out. It was almost like the universe played a trick on him - if he can’t be a good host, he won’t be a host at all, and now he will live alone, again, in this sterile empty room, with sleep as the only reason to come back here every day. What was he thinking, anyway? Did he really want to lecture Ian like he was his cleaning service?  
  
  
Connor grunted and stood up. Why did he even felt guilty about something he didn't do? And why did he feel so bad about Ian moving out? Without a word?  
  
  
He froze in place for a second, like he got an idea. He picked up the tablet again and checked metadata of the message Ian left. He noticed that Ian wrote if for the first time almost a week ago, but set its visibility to hidden. It was edited a few times after that, but he couldn't see the history, only that the file size changed a bit after every edit.  
  
  
And even though Ian crossed out a few words, he left them there while he could just erase them, just like he wanted Connor to see what he wrote before. Maybe he really did.  
  
It almost looked like Ian was ready to move out days ago, but decided to stay for longer.  
  
  
\- Unbelievable. - Connor chuckled and felt the feeling again, but it wasn't unpleasant this time. And he realized that he was probably getting himself into trouble, but maybe it was just the trouble he needed right now. He sat on the bed and wrapped the blanket around him, thinking that maybe, just maybe, life under Abundance supervision might not be as bad as he thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Ian being a terrible flatmate. He's so dignified and calm, but his room? A mess. 
> 
>  _________________________
> 
> I want to thank our Technomancer discord group for encouraging me to produce Mars-related content, be it art or fanfics. Writing is not my strongest suit, so you don't even know how powerful you are, being able to push me out of my comfort zone to post fics. Seriously guys, you're a great source of motivation. Love you all sunshines <3 
> 
> __________________________  
> Very special thanks to [Stunt Pilots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stunt_pilots)who not only corrected all of my mistakes, but also left some valuable input such as "dats gay" and "his blanket was shit". Love you, you ass.


End file.
